Figment of Dreams

Lux

I was in the penthouse again, where all those weeks ago I had one of the best nights of my life with him. Feeling like I had been the only person he had ever opened up to. I got rid of my mud stained clothes, quickly showered and found one of his crisp white shirts which smelled like the ocean and completely him. Totally tired and upset, scared for him, I still managed to pass out in his bed.

‘Carina….’ I woke up to someone slowly caressing my hair. It was dark. Still middle of the night. I turned around, scrambled upwards. He was bleeding, he was hurt. ‘Dosch? Oh my god.’ I reached for the night light and flicked it on. My worry for him was on another level. He needed to be alright. It was worse than I thought though. ‘You need a hospital.’ I whisper screamed. I fussed over his face and chest. He grabbed my hands. ‘It’s okay Carina. I’ll live.’ He chuckled.

‘Don’t make fun of it.’ My hands shaking again. I hated seeing him hurt. It actually hurt me too.

‘We got them. Thanks to you.’ He added tenderly.

I just continued with the fussing. Going over his hair, face, hands. ‘Do you need bandages?’

‘Nothing I can’t do myself. Go to sleep, Carina.’ He kissed me, got up and walked towards the bathroom. Slightly cramped but still functioning. Thank the gods.

I fell back down, worries still flashing through my mind. The Dornatills wanted me death. But somehow sleep claimed me anyway.

I woke next to a warm body, wrapped around my back. A head in my neck, slowly breathing. It was already light out and in the dim morning glow I could see the tattoos on his fingers. I stirred and he stirred as well. Planting slow kisses on my neck, collar bone, shoulder. ‘Morning Carina…’

I turned around and placed my head on his chest. Hugging him. ‘Careful now.’ He chuckled. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

‘Are you still angry with me.’ I whispered.

I stayed quiet for a moment.

‘Very.’ He said solemnly. ‘So very angry, I can’t stand to kiss you.’ He kissed my forehead. ‘Or hug you.’ He grabbed me tighter. A weight lifted of my chest and I kissed his naked chest softly.

Too much had happened between us. I knew deep down it would never be the same or could ever be the same. We had killed something that wasn’t ever coming back. All the jabs, all the tears, the betrayals. It could never be again. Yet, we held each other that night. We made love. For the last time.